Goldfinch ravishing the sunflowers!  Too much yellow!

Too loud; his song demanding…screeching:  Me! Me!

Entertaining, but not subtle enough for beauty?  Maybe.

Though there are truths he does parade; offering for a fee.

Can beauty only be the delicate; truth only glaring?

“The truth is ugly!” “You can’t handle the truth!”

A curve of flesh, real, depicted or imagined can still

Elicit bliss; the intuited joy of the incorruptible line.

Gastrocnemius, Soleus, Iliotbial, Peroneus enfolded;

The legs perfection of muscle, tendon, bone and skin.

Middle-aged crisis guy entranced by a woman’s legs;

Her elongated neck’s porcelain skin, shiver releasing.

Does need dictate the beauty we see…becoming our truths?

Truth might be beauty; perceived beauty our only truths.